


Domestic

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Other, Semi-established relationship, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 00:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: Jon sits and eats in relative silence, and Gerry eats toast to try and soak up any remaining alcohol in his system.





	Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> gerry lives aus are real good when you remember he'd probably end up living with jon regardless of income
> 
> not beta'd

“Guess who.”   
  
“Ghost of Christmas past.” Jon sounds just as miserable as when Gerry left him hours ago in the exact same spot. The room is in the same state as before, barely anything moved a millimeter other than the sun, already hanging halfway into the sky.   
  
“You wish.”   
  
“Mm.” Gerry pulls his coat off, hanging it up and kicking his boots off. “When was the last time you slept?”   
  
“Two days? Two and a half days.”   
  
“Going for a record?” He walks to the couch, reads the statement over Jon's shoulder for a minute. “Coffee? Tea? I need to sober up.”   
  
“I'm fine.”   
  
“Suit yourself.”   
  
Jon's apartment was a miserably small thing but considering he was basically getting free room and board, Gerry wasn't one to complain. He works most nights, much the same way he used to work for his mother, finding Leitners and burning them- or whatever calls for it. And sometimes he just goes down to the bar on the corner and tries to forget what being dead feels like.   
  
It's only ever a middling success.   
  
“Met someone.” He calls from the kitchen.   
  
“Hm-”   
  
“Nice kid.”   
  
“That's great.”   
  
He sighs and waits for the kettle to start boiling. He's seen Gertrude get like this before, hungry, starving for information. And don't get him wrong, complete and total servitude was a good look on Jon, but he'd rather it be directed towards him and not a floating eye in the void.   
  
That and- even if the Archivist isn't really human, there's a limit to how much energy they can maintain without eating or sleeping. And he's pretty sure Jon hasn't moved from the spot for a while.   
  
“Mind if I bring him over?”   
  
“Okay.”  
  
Jon's not paying attention either, Gerry doesn't even have to stick his head into the living room to see that. Too wrapped up in archiving.   
  
“Actually, I was thinking of throwing an orgy, inviting some spider freaks. Maybe a cult member or two?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“And evicting you. No wait, why bother evicting, I'll go straight to murder.”   
  
“Fun.”   
  
“Jon-”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
He sighs and smiles only somewhat fondly.   
  
Their existence is horrific, sure, but that doesn't mean he has to enjoy every part of it. Gerry pours Jon a cup of hot water and walks it back over, pressing it against Jon's cheek and watching the man jump. Jon's eyes dilate when he looks at Gerry. Unsurprising.   
  
“You have to go to bed, Jon.” It takes him a second, entire body struggling to catch up with his brain, Gerry's seen him like this before. He can practically see the thoughts, irritation to acceptance until Jon finally reaches up to take the cup and drink. “When was the last time you ate?”   
  
There's a blush on Jon's face that he's sure Jon would try to hide if he was lucid enough to be aware of it.   
  
“A few hours.”   
  
“How many hours?”   
  
“I don't know.” Gerry sighs.   
  
It's not irritation, it's not pity, it's more an acknowledgment of the situation. Gertrude got like this too, towards the end.

Towards his end.   
  
“Are you more tired or more hungry?” Gerry nudges the bottom of the cup and Jon drinks again. “Think real hard.”   
  
“Gerry-”   
  
“Okay, you're right. Ask a stupid question. I'm not going to bother asking you when you showered, so go do that, and I'll make you something, and we can go to bed at the same time. Cute right? Very cute. You also don't have the energy to argue with me so why don't we skip that step and you just go- go shower.”   
  
Jon looks like he's about to start, he really does, but instead, he gets up, finishes the rest of his water and very slowly presses the still warm cup into Gerry's chest until he takes it and heads into their singular bathroom.    
  
Gerry makes breakfast because the sun is out and he's not a heathen.   
  
Well only in the biblical sense.   
  
Jon didn't have a dining table, why would he, so Gerry makes some attempt to move papers around in ways that Jon would be able to find again easily.   
  
“Gerry? Did you throw my clothes in the wash?” Jon calls.   
  
“Probably.”   
  
If Jon grumbles, Gerry can't hear him.   
  
He makes something hearty with what little he can find in Jon's fridge and tries to remember that he has to go grocery shopping. Just because neither of them eat like normal people anymore doesn't mean they have to live like broke college students.   
  
Jon comes out in one of Gerry's shirts because while they're close enough to share clothing, they're not close enough that Jon feels fine showing all of his scars all of the time. And that's fine. Gerry's not rushing him anyway. The raised lines of where his skin reconnects with itself aren't exactly sociable either.   
  
Jon sits and eats in relative silence, and Gerry eats toast to try and soak up any remaining alcohol in his system.   
  
It's nice.   
  
Domestic.   
  
Jon cleans his plate, and that's a pleasant change of pace.   
  
“How was the bar?” Gerry's almost shocked to hear him talk at all.   
  
“Fine. I met a guy, I told you earlier, but you were too busy to listen to poor little me talk.”   
  
“Is he... you know.”   
  
“Gay? I mean, I'm assuming.” Watching Jon's features twist in minute irritation is always funny. “He's just a normal guy.”   
  
“Uh huh,” Jon says like its an insult. “Are you going to bring him over?”   
  
“Are-Are you expecting me to?”   
  
“Just- We're roommates,” Jon says, face turned away from him. “I don't want you to think I'm going to be against it if you want to.”   
  
“Jon we only have one bed. You're in my shirt right now.” Gerry says and heads into the kitchen to allow Jon his private embarrassment. “If you want a three-way you can just ask.”    
  
He hears the sputtering and can just imagine what Jon looks like right now, because he's predictable and now they're domestic, apparently.   
  
“Excuse me for being supportive.” He says when Gerry comes back.   
  
“Of course. Already forgiven.” He says, and Jon shakes his head. “Bed.”   
  
“...Bed.”   
  
“Don't be like that. You're tired aren't you?” It took Gertrude a while to feel it as well, the unmistakable weight of exhaustion. Gerry waits for it in Jon. “Come on.”   
  
“Okay.” He doesn't fight the guiding hand on his back, but he does sway just a little bit.   
  
Light creeps in from the partially closed windows, so Gerry closes them the rest of the way and pulls the blinds down and then draws the thin curtains over that. It's almost dark in the room, some of it still fading through, but beggars choosers. He spares a look at the alarm clock that blinks a red 8:29 back at him.   
  
Jon's already horizontal, face buried in the pillows and Gerry draws the blanket over his shoulders.   
  
“I'm going to shower-”   
  
“Mm.”   
  
Gerry smiles, and it's nothing but fondness now.   
  
He runs the shower hot for as long as he can, scrubbing the smudged make up off of his face until he only kind of looks like a messy corpse. Jon took second to last clean shirt, so he tries to remember to do laundry again later. Or steal Jon's clothes in retribution.   
  
He gets into bed as quietly as he can because he's pretty sure Jon's asleep instantly. He only kind of yelps with Jon wraps his arms around Gerry's torso and presses his face into Gerry's shoulder.   
  
“Hey.”   
  
“Mm.” Now, Gerry feels his body really sag, barely coherent. Only now. Jon waited for him.   
  
That's just the sweetest thing he's ever heard maybe.   
  
“Good night. I'm not going to wake you up, you should know.” There's a sound of discontent and Gerry just pats Jon's head slowly.   
  
“Good night Gerry.”   
  
Even if its muffled by the fabric, it still makes him smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> talk[ to me here](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/)


End file.
